Chapter five

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall as Dorian’s words replayed in my head.

If you don’t come to my room, the consequences will be yours to deal with.

I clenched my hands, remembering the way he had looked at me before walking out. He actually thought he could control every aspect of my life just because I was his wife on paper.

Well, he was wrong. I wasn’t going to his room tonight, and if he wanted to make my life miserable, he could do so without expecting me to beg him for anything.

I lay back on my bed, pulled the covers over myself, and closed my eyes.

***

A bucket of cold water splashed across my face.

My eyes flew open, and I blinked, struggling to adjust to the shock. Dorian came into view, a frown on his face as he stared down at me.

“You didn’t come last night,” he said flatly.

Water dripped down my face as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

“And you can’t force me,” I replied.

“This is your punishment for what you did, so face it. You wanted to be my wife, so get used to it,” he said coldly.

I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back my anger. “You know, instead of blaming me for everything, why don’t you just divorce me? You can marry your true love and leave me alone.”

My voice rose slightly as I stared straight at him.

His expression faltered for a moment. He seemed surprised by my response, probably because he was used to the quiet girl who never talked back.

“We have a charity party tonight,” he said, adjusting his sleeves. “You’re coming with me, but you must stay in the shadows. Don’t draw unnecessary attention to yourself. Your maid will bring you the dress you’re expected to wear.”

I stared at him. He had just thrown a bucket of water on me, and now he was giving me orders as if nothing had happened.

“Are you done?” I asked, pushing the wet hair away from my face.

He gave me one last look before turning around. “Make sure you’re ready before noon.”

He walked out, leaving me with water dripping from my clothes.

I had barely finished drying my hair when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

The maid walked in, holding a clothing bag. “Madam, Mr. Blackwood asked me to bring this for you.” She placed it on my bed without meeting my eyes.

I opened it and brought out the dress. It was old, with faded material and loose threads around the sleeves.

“Did he tell you to bring this?”

She nodded, and I dropped the dress on the bed. “Of course he did.” I wasn’t even surprised anymore.

After a shower, I put it on and stood in front of the mirror. The sleeves were too loose, and it barely fit. I brushed my hair, applied a little lip gloss, and picked up my handbag.

I walked downstairs, and the first person I saw was Lara. She was standing near the staircase, checking her phone, in a champagne-coloured gown that fitted her perfectly. The necklace around her neck looked expensive.

Her eyes moved towards me, and a smile appeared on her face.

“Oh, Elena. You’re ready.”

I looked at her dress, then glanced down at mine. “Funny,” I muttered.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering if we’re attending the same party.”

She laughed and looked down at her gown. “Oh, this? Dorian picked it for me. He said I should look good since I’ll be meeting some important people tonight.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

Just then, Dorian walked into the living room, adjusting his wristwatch. His eyes went straight to Lara.

“You look good,” he said.

“Thank you.”

His eyes moved to me, and I waited for him to say something. He looked at my dress but said nothing before turning away. Of course. What else had I expected?

Before she walked past me, Lara stopped. “Try not to embarrass him tonight, Elena.”

“Then try not to give me a reason to.”

Her smile faltered slightly, and I walked past her before she could reply.

Outside, Dorian opened the car door for Lara and let her get in before looking at me.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I can open a door myself.”

Nobody spoke during the journey except Lara, who talked about the people she expected to meet. I watched the buildings pass by the window. If they wanted to pretend I wasn’t his wife, I could do the same.

The car stopped in front of a hotel lit like a stage. Photographers lined the carpet. Lara reached for the door, already smiling for the cameras.

I got out from the car first. Flashbulbs went off before I could take a second step. A man shouted, “Mrs. Blackwood! Over here!” Then another voice, and another, until my name rolled down the carpet. They knew exactly who I was. The replacement bride who married Blackwood in the middle of a scandal.

I stood in the light, in a dress that looked like it came from the bottom of a cupboard, and didn’t move.

Behind me, I heard Dorian get out of the car. He had told me to stay in the shadows, and I had just put myself in front of every camera in the city.

“Elena.” His voice was low and dangerous to my ear. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I turned and met his eyes, my chin lifted.

“Not hiding,” I said.